Stargate Ragnarok: Supply and Demand
by Sealurk
Summary: A standalone short tale set a month or so after the end of Baptism of Fire Pt 3. Half of 1LR pay a visit to Stargate Command... which goes about as smoothly as you might expect.


**Stargate: Ragnarok**

**Short #1**

"**Supply and Demand"**

Three pairs of British standard issue combat boots tramped down the metal grille of the ramp, accompanied by another pair of leather boots that weren't standard issue for any military, paramilitary or security force on Earth, the wearer of which had developed a limp.

"Welcome back Major Taylor," Harriman said, looking up from his terminal as the SFs in the Gate Room moved forward to accept and secure the team's weapons.

"Thanks Chief. If he's around, could you tell General Landry we've got him a little present? It is only two weeks to Christmas, after all," Taylor said, checking his watch to remind himself of the time and perform a swift mental calculation of the difference, suddenly realising that here it was still early morning. Behind him, Jarvis pushed the black leather clad prisoner forward none too gently. The Lucian Alliance officer had his hands bound in front of him with a zip tie, and he wore a surly, faux-indifferent expression, as if he'd been in much worse situations and the prospect of interrogation by the SGC and indefinite incarceration at Area 51's rapidly growing stockade would barely inconvenience him. He also wore a bloodied field dressing on his right calf.

"The General's not in yet, but I've paged Colonel Mitchell," Harriman said.

"Dave? If you're okay with it I'd like to head off to get that data from Bill Lee. Not exactly a lot I can help you with here, after all," Nesbitt said in an almost apologetic manner, hiking a thumb towards one of the large, reinforced doors out of the Gate Room.

"Al, we've got about four hours here. You don't need to rush, but you do need to secure your weapon, sign in and ideally stay for debriefing. Shouldn't take long," Taylor said, unslinging his HK416 and handing it and the P226 pistol on his belt to an SF.

"You know I saw and heard sod all about this guy, right? I was off taking solar readings the whole time," Nesbitt protested.

"Al…"

"Fine, but if I get sucked into another lengthy and excruciatingly detailed monologue on his kids because I didn't catch him at the busiest part of his shift, I'm blaming you. And more to the point, I'm expecting you to bail me out," Nesbitt said.

The SGC's briefing room was a familiar and mostly welcome sight to Taylor. As he climbed the steps, noticing a handful of discrete Christmas decorations, a figure in blue fatigues that Taylor recognised emerged from Landry's office.

"Colonel Mitchell, sir," Taylor said, coming to attention.

"At ease, Major. The General's on his way in, but since I'm currently the ranking officer on base, you've got me instead – so you can drop the formalities if you want. So how're the new digs working out?" Mitchell said.

"Pretty well so far," Taylor began cautiously. Because of the things they dealt with on a daily basis, officers in the Stargate Program were frequently much more laidback and less concerned with proper military protocol, but Taylor still felt uncomfortable by not calling Mitchell 'sir'. "We've had some teething problems, and a brief infestation of –"

"Fenrir?" Mitchell prompted, remembering the report he'd memorised on the so-called 'Fido Crisis'.

"IOA," Taylor deadpanned.

Mitchell grinned. There was no love lost between the SGC and its civilian overseers.

"So what's the story with this guy you brought in?" Mitchell asked, arms folded as he stared out of the window at the Stargate. Taylor stood next to him, hands in pockets.

"He's probably just one of the lower level lieutenants rather than anybody of real significance like a second, but it's still one less kassa-peddling piece of crap wandering the galaxy, and even they occasionally have some useful intel," Taylor said.

"The lower echelon guys are easier to put the fear of God into as well," Mitchell replied. "Sounds kind of weird to have Alliance guys in your part of the galaxy though. How'd you come across him?"

"We were on a routine recon op, trying to follow up a tenuous lead on the escaped Fenrir, which turned out to be a waste of time. Still, we met the locals, did the usual meet and greet, poked around the place for a bit and then came across three shifty looking blokes in black leather armed with zats. They were trying to set up a protection racket and doing their best to get as many locals as possible addicted to kassa on the side."

Mitchell nodded.

"Pretty much SOP for the Alliance," he said.

"They saw us… well, mainly Jarvis, which I think made them crap themselves, and legged it," Taylor said. "Since this guy was in last place, seemed to be the leader, and was the only one stupid enough to actually threaten the locals with a weapon, I shot him in the leg. Because Section J is being rebuilt as we speak, we don't have any useful containment facilities at the moment, so when I dialled the Garrison to report in and send Halverson and Llewellyn back, I suggested to Webber that I bring him straight to the SGC. We don't have much to do with the Lucian Alliance anyway since, like you said, we don't really encounter them in our corner of the Milky Way."

Mitchell nodded again.

"The Alliance are stretched thin and they're still pretty fractured. Now it's just lots of warlords all trying to seize control of the whole organisation, but no single head honcho. As long as they're fighting internally it makes our job easier," Mitchell said.

"How's it looking with _Destiny_?" Taylor asked.

"Not good," Mitchell replied grimly. "Last time we heard from them, they reported they'd just lost two more people – one to a suicide and one to a rockslide while offworld. Landry's got almost every team and ship looking for Icarus-type worlds or any kind of power source that might be able to dial Destiny, but we're not getting anywhere."

"How're things going otherwise?" Taylor asked.

"Okay I guess. Lucian Alliance is a gigantic pain in the butt, and I'm still trying to pick the new guys for SG-1," Mitchell said. "Carter was given command of the _Hammond_ and Teal'c left to focus on his work with the Free Jaffa Nation with Bra'tac. He won't say it, but I think he's been feeling his age a lot recently, though since he's more or less the Jaffa ambassador to Earth and the IOA is desperate to help rebuild Dakara to improve relations, we still see him regularly. In fact he's on base at the moment, somewhere."

"Well that's good. Got your eye on any candidates?" Taylor asked.

"Only a few, but the most promising is a Major Hailey who's been with the program for eight or nine years."

"Can't say I know him," Taylor said, shaking his head as he drew a blank.

"Her. Jennifer Hailey – she's more or less Carter's protégé. Been in Area 51 R&D for the last few years but has offworld experience."

* * *

"She's on my team, Doctor. I just want to know how she's doing," Jarvis said.

"Look. Corporal Moffatt suffered a very traumatic head injury, Sergeant, something we call an intracranial extradural haematoma. Your Doctor Nelson – " Doctor Lam began.

"Major Nelson. He's Royal Medical Corps, so he's addressed by rank," Jarvis said, politely and quietly correcting her.

"Okay, _Major_ Nelson caught it in time. The problem was corrected with surgery, and she's making a near perfect recovery, but it's a long process and there are few guarantees. Right now she's recuperating in the Air Force Academy Hospital, but I think she's going to be shipped home to Britain soon. Whether she makes a good enough recovery to go back on active duty… I don't know."

Jarvis thought for a second.

"So she's still at the Academy Hospital? That's not too far, right?" he said.

"I'd say its forty-five minutes to an hour's drive, but if you were able to secure a car and leave now you'd be hitting the worst of the rush hour traffic. Even if you didn't… do you really have enough time to get there and back? I mean, she'll probably be resting anyway and you'll have about ten, maybe twenty minutes before you have to turn around and come back," Lam said.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right."

* * *

"Right, Sergeant. The situation is dire and tactically speaking, we're short on options. An allied unit is pinned down by incessant enemy fire and hostile forces are blocking the best route for evacuation."

"I'm guessing a head-on assault is not an option, sir?" Jarvis whispered cautiously.

"No, it would invite retribution and could ultimately prove to be self-defeating. We need to be cunning here – we have to create a diversion convincing and significant enough to allow a swift evac, which probably means redirecting all the incoming fire on us," Taylor said quietly. Nodding reluctantly, Jarvis followed Taylor into the laboratory.

"Oh, hey guys," Doctor Lee said, beaming as they entered. "I was just telling Alastair about my current project, our first attempt at a home grown personal shield generator, right? It's funny, I was just explaining how my kids accidentally gave me the idea to use evenly distributed phased tetrahedral micro-emitters to improve the particle density and regeneration time."

"Extensively…" Nesbitt said, agreeing a little too fervently. He was sitting uncomfortably, as if he'd been trying repeatedly to edge towards the door and make excuses to leave, and as Bill Lee turned to look at the newcomers, the look of quiet, smiling desperation on Nesbitt's face said everything Taylor needed to know.

"I was saying the prototype system seems to work within expected parameters against solid projectiles, but it's currently undergoing trials to determine why it's not so effective against energy weapons, which is why the alarms are disabled. See, what I thought about doing is inverting the –"

"Right, well as much as he's enjoying the chat, I'm afraid the good doctor's going to have to cut it short sooner rather than later because they're moving the Garrison's supply shipment into the corridor next to the Gate Room, so that's our cue to –" Taylor began.

"Oh, no, they always do that about an hour before they need it just so they aren't rushing around at the last minute," Lee said helpfully before turning back to his one-sided conversation, oblivious to Nesbitt's discomfort or Taylor's gentle prompting. Sighing, Taylor realised a less subtle approach was needed. He scanned the room, sighting a Jaffa staff weapon mounted on a metal trolley, held fast in what looked like a large clamp with a servo positioned over each of the two controls and a cluster of electronics and a laptop off to one side. It looked like an important and delicate set up.

"Hey, what's this do?" Taylor said, reaching out to touch the clearly sensitive apparatus. As his fingers stretched out, Dr Lee turned, yelled and leaped off his stool, his long conversation with Nesbitt completely forgotten. The Scottish scientist, mouthing grateful thanks, slipped swiftly and silently out of the room as Jarvis stepped neatly aside to let him pass then resumed his position.

Taylor had never had any intention of actually touching the weapon or the apparatus wrapped around it, just making it look convincing enough to distract Dr Lee but as Jarvis stepped to one side he nudged Taylor's elbow. The Major's arm involuntarily moved forward just enough for his outstretched finger to brush the keyboard on the apparatus.

With a crackle, the staff weapon's almond shaped head split into four, orange arcs playing over the exposed circuitry. A fraction of a second later, a pulse of bright golden energy leapt out of the barrel of the weapon and smashed into the wall it had been facing, instantly exploding and partly vaporising a melon sized chunk of concrete and leaving the resulting gouge scorched and fused. Smoke surrounded both the weapon's exposed head and the blackened smoking cavity in front of it.

"Oh crap…" Taylor muttered.

* * *

Taylor walked quickly through the SGC's corridors, followed by Jarvis and a very nervous looking Nesbitt, until he came across a welcome sight. Ahead of him were more than a dozen large pallets loaded with supplies for the Garrison, nearly all wrapped and secured with transparent plastic wrap, and several electric vehicles to move them through the gate.

"Right, we'll just wait here for the duration, I think," Taylor said, casually eyeing the various containers behind the plastic wrap. Some of the more basic supplies were of US origin for the sake of simplicity and expediency, but Taylor was still seeing lots of recognisable British colours and logos in large catering packs – the SWRS still had funding issues and limits, but they still preferred to fly in supplies their personnel would be familiar with. With little else to do but wait for the Stargate to dial back to Lyngvi and collect his weapons and gear in the Gate Room, Taylor decided to investigate the pallets out of idle curiosity and to see if any of his requests to the mess had been fulfilled. A few metres away, Jarvis began to follow suit.

"Oh, cool, we're getting more Yorkie bars in," Taylor murmured.

"Dave, you shot a hole in the wall!" Nesbitt hissed worriedly next to him. "You don't think you should report that or own up or something?"

"How about you forget that ever happened Doctor, eh? Be a shame if something were to happen to your Irn-Bru…" Jarvis said mockingly, pointing at the blue and orange container and grinning. Nesbitt whirled on Jarvis with a furious expression that made the hulking marine think again. Behind him, Taylor was solemnly and rapidly shaking his head as if to indicate how bad an idea threatening one of Nesbitt's favourite drinks really was.

"Okay, yes, I did. It was an accident, and normally I would immediately stick my hand up and confess, but right now it would only hurt the SWRS – our funding is on a knife edge as it is. Those who oppose our program are gathering every last bit of evidence to use against us!" Taylor hissed.

"And you think running away from property damage is the right idea?"

"Al – listen to me. What happened in there could technically be classified as an accidental discharge. Do you know what the penalty is for that? Severe. Now, I've managed to convince –"

"You mean bribe," Nesbitt said.

"…persuade Dr Lee not to say anything and claim it was a glitch in the gear the staff was hooked up to, but the sooner we're off this base, the better. Besides, what I want to know is why the hell we couldn't just drag you out of the laboratory?"

"Lee is… odd. Nice bloke, very clever, but socially… odd. He'll tolerate military crap, but from fellow scientists? It pays not to do anything to unduly upset him, because he remembers."

Taylor was about to respond when the Stargate started dialling.

"They're early. We're not scheduled to leave for another twenty minutes," Taylor muttered.

"It's not for us, sir. I heard somebody mention Teal'c requested to return to Dakara early," Jarvis volunteered.

"Teal'c? Oh crap! If Teal'c is coming this way… Jarvis, quickly, stand in front of the Jaffa cakes! Don't let him see them!" Taylor said.

"What? Why? Oh God, _Jaffa_ Cakes… he finds them offensive, doesn't he? Thinks we're mocking his people or something? Or is he just confused by them?" Nesbitt said.

"What? Neither! Al, he _loves_ the damn things. He can't get enough of them!"

Moments after Taylor ordered Jarvis to find the orange flavoured, chocolate coated cakes and block them from view heavy footsteps floated towards them. Teal'c, flashes of silver hair now on either side of his head and lines etched into his one hundred and sixty year old face, walked towards them in the loose robes seen so commonly on non-combatant Jaffa. At the sight of the nonchalant British trio waiting by and leaning on the pallets destined for Lyngvi Garrison, he stopped and stared.

"Major Taylor," Teal'c said, slowly bowing his head in the manner peculiar to the Jaffa.

"Teal'c," Taylor replied with a respectful nod.

"Major Taylor, I shall soon be leaving for Dakara, and I will not be returning to Earth for many weeks."

"Oh, yeah, that really is a shame," Taylor said, nodding.

"Indeed."

"Well, I'd best not keep you then. Safe travels, best of luck and all that," Taylor said, struggling to find something to say. Teal'c continued staring without moving, but he also continued to speak and did not miss a beat.

"Is it not the season of goodwill and a time of sharing and giving for many humans?" Teal'c intoned.

"Ah, yes, well…"

"I do not believe General Landry would react well upon learning the identity of the individual who damaged Doctor Lee's laboratory wall with my staff weapon," Teal'c said. There was no force to his voice. It had been a statement, speculation, nothing more. Taylor's eyes narrowed and his mouth opened as if to protest.

"...fine, take them," Taylor said, relenting. Teal'c smiled, performed his habitual Jaffa nod once again and as Jarvis stood to one side, casually split the plastic holding the contents of the pallet together and gathered up all of the catering packs of Jaffa Cakes before marching towards the Gate Room.

Jarvis shook his head and smiled to himself, while Nesbitt blinked a few times.

"Okay… did a living legend and one of the galaxy's greatest ever heroes just extort five boxes of Jaffa cakes out of us?" Nesbitt said, staring at the imposing warrior walking away.

Taylor sighed.

"Yep."


End file.
